


Lay Me Down

by TrickyTricky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Gen, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17739386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyTricky/pseuds/TrickyTricky
Summary: Rex, like many of his brothers, has come to dread the hours he lies awake in his rack, sleepless and terrified of what awaits him in the dark depths of his unconscious. His fears surrounding the nightmares that catch their hooks into his sleeping mind once he has finally drifted off are enough to torment him into fighting against the rest he so desperately needs.War is hell, and the terrible fate that lies in store for the clone troopers casts its long shadow over them even now.But even in the depths of hell there can be mercy.





	1. Chapter 1

The first night, Rex wasn’t sure what was happening.

He was in a mixed nine-man stateroom on board the Negotiator, jumbled together with two other troopers from his own legion, members of the 212th, and even one officer from ship’s company. The joint mission had been assigned so last minute that the rack assignments had ended up much more slapdash than usual. Clone troopers had been mixed in together wherever a free berthing could be found; Rex just counted himself lucky there was a rack available in officer’s quarters at all for him to hop into.

Rex had entered the room late that evening, finally finished with making his rounds and ensuring that all of his men were settled in. He didn’t turn on the harsh overhead light when he stepped inside, instead using the dim setting of his helmet’s flash beam to guide himself over to his locker and prepared to turn in. Most of the others in the room had already found their racks and he could hear quiet clicks from within several of the nooks as troopers wound down from their stressful days, browsing holofilms with headphones in or reading on their personal datapads.

He tilted his head a little as he noted that instead of closing their privacy screens completely, as would be typical for someone preparing to go to sleep, most of the troopers in the shared room had only closed theirs three quarters of the way. Apparently they did things a little differently on this ship than he was used to. Mentally shrugging it off, he figured it would be on them if a careless roommate entered in the middle of night shift and wasn’t as considerate about the overhead light, blasting anyone who didn’t have their screen closed and surely waking them up.

After stripping off the last of his armor, Rex climbed up and slid into one of the middle racks. He fully retracted the privacy cover behind him, plunging his space into soothing darkness, the rest of the room dimming to barely visible outlines through the nearly-opaque screen. He laid back against his pillow and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the hours of restless fidgeting he would surely face before finally finding his rest.

No matter how weary he was, there was always a part of him that fought against the sleep his body craved.

He knew the nightmares would be waiting for him.

Not just any nightmares. He could deal with the ones that paraded the horrific scenes of war behind his eyelids again and again. It was no picnic, but he was resilient. He could cope with those. No, the ones he dreaded were unique in their vivid horror, left him reeling and gasping when he woke, their remnants crawling like invasive little fire-ants beneath his skin when he recalled them in the morning, which left him trembling and helpless in their grip.

He wasn’t the only brother who suffered from them.

It was never spoken of among them, but he knew he wasn’t facing them alone.

He shifted, turning onto his side to face the bulkhead and curling up a little as he tried to clear his thoughts. Nothing could keep the nightmare away if this was to be one of the bad nights, but it surely wouldn't help matters to continue dwelling on the subject in his own mind.

It was hard to tell exactly, but he judged no more than about twenty minutes could have passed, his eyes still determinedly closed, his fingers tapping restlessly against the mattress, when he heard someone enter the room. His eyes blinked open, startled, when he recognized the distinctive gait of a Jedi; that almost inaudible tooka-soft tread accompanied by the little clicks from their boot heels that always gave them away when they weren’t particularly trying for stealth.

He quietly flipped himself over, turning to face the nearly-opaque shielding that covered the front of his rack. If one of the generals needed something this late in the day, it certainly didn’t bode well for any of them.

Instead of the overhead light being turned on, or any call to duty, Rex listened as those soft footsteps made their way quietly and slowly around the room. He saw a dim silhouette barely visible through his closed screen and recognized General Kenobi’s features as he paused next to his rack.

Rex was honestly baffled as he heard the general stoop down to murmur something nearly inaudible to the trooper in the rack beneath him, pause for a moment, then there was the quiet snick of the privacy screen retracting fully. The general then leaned up past Rex’s bunk, clearly balancing up on his toes to reach the trooper above him, repeating the process.

This continued several times more as the general circulated through the room, pausing next to each rack that had been left open, doing something mysterious, then moving on to the next. The whole thing took less than five minutes in total. By the time the general stepped out of the room, never having gained anything as far as Rex could determine, he was burning up with curiosity.

What had that been all about?

This new mystery would certainly do nothing good for his ability to fall asleep, and he allowed himself the luxury of a moment of envy for his brothers in the room, all now breathing in the deep, even patterns that indicated they had fallen into a restful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The second night he was billeted on board the Negotiator, Rex knew exactly what to expect later as he stripped out of his armor for the evening and slid into his rack.

He just hadn’t quite managed to decide what he was going to do about it yet.

Rather than indulging in the increasingly farfetched rumors that flashed their way through the squads from the 501st that morning, Rex had gone straight to a reliable source and asked Cody about the situation directly. Cody had been immediately rueful that in the chaos of the hasty deployment he had forgotten to pull aside the officers of the visiting legion to brief them on the tradition. The practice had become so habitual to the 212th that it had completely slipped his mind that their temporary residents would not be familiar with the favor his Jedi had been offering to all hands for quite some time.

It had begun during the early days of the war, when General Kenobi had diligently scheduled a short block of time on a daily basis to visit the med-bay and sit with the troopers who were recovering from battlefield wounds. Apparently, offering a gentle nudge into deep, restorative sleep for the injured was a common practice among the Jedi, and the medics had been quick to take General Kenobi up on his offer to do the same for any of their injured men who were willing to accept. Natural, restful sleep was one of the most helpful things for a body working to heal itself, and was often nearly impossible to reach for soldiers who were struggling with pain from their injuries and the stress of the war.

The functions of the ship itself and the tasks that needed to be accomplished across all shifts often made it difficult for anyone to sleep a full night through, even those who were otherwise perfectly healthy. There was always something rattling, clanking or sliding noisily across the deck above, the sensation of entry into or exit from hyperspace jolting through one’s body, or important announcements being broadcast over the shipwide channels. It took a few weeks, but eventually one of the bolder sergeants who had benefited from the assisted sleep got up the nerve to ask their general if he would be willing to continue the routine for him even after he had fully recovered and been released back to his normal berthing.

General Kenobi had apparently agreed so readily, and been so obviously pleased to offer something that could give the trooper some measure of peace, that others within the battalion had quickly begun to approach him to make the same request once they realized it was an option. Cody had stepped in once it became clear that virtually every trooper that bunked with General Kenobi was going to be eager to take the Jedi up on his offer. He had put his head together with the general, then promulgated a scheduled roster for when the Jedi would be available to circulate among the berthing areas and staterooms, as well as implementing a consistent signal that would indicate whether or not a trooper was requesting a helpful nudge to send him into peaceful rest.

Rex still wasn’t completely sure what to think about the answers he had been given, but he ordered an impromptu all-hands call for his men that afternoon and made a quiet announcement in a deserted corner of the hangar bay. Each of his men would be able to make an informed decision about whether they wanted to leave their screens open and accept the offered help during one of the windows of opportunity or not.

Including himself.

Now, as he settled into his rack for the night, feeling worn thin from another interminable day of meetings, planning and training, he found he had still not decided on what action he would take. He looked down and briefly lit up the face of his chrono display; it was about ten minutes before General Kenobi would be beginning his rounds.

On the one hand, a night of full, uninterrupted, _dreamless_ sleep sounded like the kind of bliss he had been craving for what felt like an eternity. Some days it seemed like the bags under his eyes were becoming so deep and dark that they would soon begin to grow bags of their own.

There was only so far caf could take a man, and he knew his performance had begun to decline of late as his insomnia worsened. He could feel his reflexes were slowing down and his thoughts sometimes moved more sluggishly than they should when he struggled to hold onto the thread of a conversation or find the right words to fill in the blanks on his mission reports.

He was just so tired.

Even just one night of peaceful rest sounded like a gift of manna from the _gods_.

On the other hand...on the other dark and twisted hand that sometimes still trembled with fear and loathing, he couldn’t help but remember the cold, creeping wrongness that even being in General Krell’s presence had eventually stirred. It had shuddered through him whenever he’d drawn near. It became just one more thing he had forcibly dismissed at the time, made himself ignore. But now he couldn’t help but wonder whether the fallen general had ever used his psychic powers to control them, to intrude into the minds of his men, into _Rex’s_ mind.

How would they know? Would any of them have been able to tell? Even if he _had_ realized it at the time, could that awareness have been erased from his mind, his thoughts twisted and memories wiped away without his knowledge or consent?

He knew the other Jedi weren’t like Krell; in his reasonable, rational mind he _knew_ it. They had proven themselves loyal time and time again, standing shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers of the GAR when no one else in the galaxy was willing to do the same. The Jedi had always encouraged the clones to embrace their individuality, to build a culture for themselves, let them explore what it was like to actually _express_ themselves for the first time, worlds away from the strict, colorless existence the clones had experienced under the training regimes of the long-necks and bounty hunters. 

Krell had gone bad. Rex had personally stood in front of him as he had renounced the Jedi way. He knew the things the besalisk had done were not in keeping with the strict code of ethics the Jedi held themselves to nor consistent with the behavior of any of the dozens of other Jedi he had worked with over the course of the war.

The other Jedi weren’t like him; he kept repeating it in his thoughts over and over again. They had proven that with their actions time and time again. General Kenobi _definitely_ wasn’t like him. Rex _knew_ that in his conscious mind without a shadow of a doubt.

But.

They had abilities that made them dangerous. Abilities that gave them the power to control others, to force entire armies to bend to their will if they ever decided to really exert them. It was only through the constraints they chose to place on themselves, through the voluntarily accepted reins and restrictions they hobbled themselves with, that the people of the galaxy were protected from the power they could seize if they were ever so inclined.

Something in Rex had cracked clean through in the wake of Umbara. The unexamined trust he had placed in the Jedi officers he served beside without question since that first day he had deployed from Kamino, was gone.

He knew it wasn’t fair. Over the years of the war, the Jedi he served with had _earned_ his trust with their actions, proving themselves faithful to him and his brothers time and time again. His life had personally been saved by the uncanny abilities of the Jedi when they fought beside him, he owed them his life many times over, as did countless of his brothers.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right to shove the whole group of them into the category of dangerous, of _different_ , of something to be feared and held apart, but he was finding it impossible to shake the powerful feelings loose from his mind.

Rex didn’t much like this part of himself he had uncovered by reflecting so hard on what his choice would be that night. He hated discovering that there was a corner of his mind that was trying to rule his decisions based on a fear that he knew was grounded only in prejudice. The terrible actions and choices of a few should never be used as the foundation to pour hate, fear, and condemnation against an entire people. He knew better. 

The Jedi’s organization was formed from those born with their abilities; they didn’t choose their gifts. Its active ranks were made up of those who opted to remain once their training was complete, who took their oaths after they came of age, swearing to mindfully channel their abilities into service and compassion rather than selfish gain or control. Looking at them differently, fearing them just because of an inborn trait that was outside of their control, rather than judging them on the basis of the dedicated service they offered to the people of the Republic and the lives of his brothers they had saved, was not the way Rex wanted to approach the situation.

It wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be.

He rolled onto his side, his fingers hovering indecisively over the controls for the screen that would either close off his rack or leave it open. He saw that his hand was shaking and he hated it. He hated that these fears were still unconquered, that he hadn’t yet managed to purge the glowing hot coal of terror that lingered in his belly no matter how much he tried to move on.

He hated himself for it, but when he heard the door to the room slide open and the nearly silent tread of booted feet, his hand moved without his volition, quickly slapping the controls to fully shut his screen, closing himself off firmly from the rest of the room before the Jedi could round the wall of lockers and come into view.

He rolled to his other side, facing away and pulling his pillow over his head so he wouldn’t have to hear the quiet sounds of his brothers all around him easing into the soft breaths of slumber that he craved so strongly for himself.


	3. Chapter 3

“What would it feel like?”

Rex kept his eyes down as he asked the question, pretending to be completely absorbed in carefully setting down and then arranging the contents of his tray on the table before him. There was only one other person at the wardroom table where he had just seated himself, so it had to be pretty kriffing clear who he was addressing. In his peripheral vision he saw General Kenobi’s head jerk up in surprise at the abrupt question. Kenobi had been sitting alone in a corner before he joined him, others obviously choosing to leave him in peace as he perused a datapad while he ate, absently bringing bites of food up to his mouth with one hand as he scrolled through the endless stream of briefs and reports that crossed his desk every day with the other.

He set that datapad aside now, his fork coming to rest down on his plate. Rex watched out of the corner of his eye, his stomach feeling like it had dropped somewhere down to about the level of his boots, as those now unoccupied hands were calmly folded to rest on the table in front of him, Kenobi’s body inclining a little forward. Even without looking up, he knew the general would be doing that _thing_ he did.

That thing where he focused all of his attention, every synapse of that ferociously intense mind turned only on absorbing and coming to an understanding of the person or problem in front of him. Rex had found it centered on himself only a handful of times, and it was always a heady feeling when it happened. There was something unique about the way Kenobi could bring his focus to bear, something that made it clear he was choosing to make you the center of his galaxy in those moments. Rex had made a casual comment about it once in the hearing of a group of 212th officers, and they had all chuckled, knowing exactly what he was talking about. 

Each one had a story to share about a time they had approached their general with a personal or professional struggle, or he had sensed something amiss and approached them individually himself, times when he had stopped what he was doing and really _listened_ to their concerns. Apparently he was pretty well known among his own men for his ability to reliably come up with sensible advice if they were trying to work through a tough problem, or provide just the right touch of empathy and commiseration when someone really just needed a friendly ear to listen to their woes.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Rex looked up and met the eyes of the man sitting across from him. He had got up the nerve to force himself this far, in it up to his neck already and fully committed. Might as well try to push on through without coming off as a coward in front of a man whose good opinion, in spite of everything, still meant the world to him.

“It’s a little different for everyone,” Kenobi said, and his eyes were exactly as laser focused as Rex had expected to find them. Focused, but somehow still soft at the same time, his mouth quirked up into a smile that was clearly trying to put Rex at ease. He sounded almost apologetic that he wasn’t able to give a more defined answer, but at least did him the courtesy of not pretending ignorance of the topic. Rex deliberately turned his thoughts away from what kind of mess his mind must have been projecting every time the Jedi had circulated through the stateroom for the past two evenings. 

“I’ve heard some describe it as feeling like gentle arms wrapped around you, easing you down onto a soft, warm cushion. Others have compared it to a soothing curtain of darkness falling into place to block out the bright, glaring anxieties that hindered rest, or the notes of a fondly remembered childhood lullaby, or a tender hand stroking along their scalp, pulling away all worries, pain, and stress until they fell peacefully away from the harshness of the world. For myself, when others have helped me in such a way, it feels almost like motion, like the gentle rocking sensation of a small boat drifting peacefully on a placid lake.”

He appreciated that the general kept his voice quiet as he spoke, preferring that his business not be broadcast to everyone in the room even if he had picked the public venue for the conversation himself. Even so, he found the soft words were almost hypnotic, the lilting accent and evocative descriptions of restful peace conspiring against him. He blinked for a moment longer than normal, just resting his eyes for a heartbeat, and didn’t realize what had happened until his head jerked up abruptly, eyes opening wide and meeting a concerned gaze.

He clenched his hands tightly into fists under the table at his lapse, his cheeks burning with humiliation. He opened his hands and dug his fingers _hard_ into the soft flesh just above his knees, letting the small bruising ache fill his mind and give him a little jolt of alertness.

Really, what he needed was to stand up and move. It was dangerous to pause for even a moment. His exhaustion was like an enemy, stalking him every minute he was on duty now, just waiting for a moment of weakness to strike and make him stumble in front of his men. One day soon it would happen on the battlefield, and that would be the end of him. He just hoped that when it did, he didn’t make a mistake that resulted in death or injury for anyone but himself.

“Are you alright, Captain?”

Rex kept himself from visibly jolting this time at least, though he only realized his eyes had glazed over while his thoughts wandered when General Kenobi’s face snapped back into clear focus in front of him at the question.

“Yes sir, good to go,” he replied automatically, not even thinking about the words as they fell from his mouth. “Apologies. Just a little distracted this morning.”

He wasn’t sure why he lied.

“I don’t want to seem intrusive, but I hope you know if there are any concerns or issues that I can assist with, I’m always available to you and your men. I have an open-door policy here on the ship…or I suppose in this case, an open-table policy, as it were. If there is something troubling you, you don’t have to deal with it alone. If it’s not something you feel comfortable sharing with me for any reason, perhaps Commander Cody or one of the battalion’s medics can assist.”

He still remembered the last time he’d tried the sleeping pills that he’d been given when he went to medical for help. Kix had seemed hesitant even as he prescribed them, stressing that they would help with the worst of the physical aspects of his insomnia, but that many brothers found them lacking as a long-term solution. Rex found out what he meant soon enough. Three nights in a row he had gasped awake following five solid hours of uninterrupted sleep and his unbearably vivid nightmares seemed to follow him into reality, shimmering in the cold sweat he was covered in, audible in his terrified panting breaths. He had tossed out the remaining doses then and there; the trade-off of a few assured hours of unconsciousness not nearly worth being trapped in the cage of his mind alongside the ravaging beast that only seemed to be fueled to new heights by whatever chemical process the sleeping pills triggered.

And Cody…he just couldn’t imagine going to his brother with this. For starters, there was nothing he could do to help, and he knew that would just eat him up inside. Cody hated nothing more than being helpless, always looking for a way to help, to make things better. You could never convince him that any barrier or problem was impossible to overcome, and Rex had never met anyone more capable of making the rest of the galaxy bend to meet his expectations. But this…even Cody’s legendary stubbornness and problem-solving skills could do nothing to fix the issue of Rex’s own mind being determined to sabotage its owner’s sanity.

More importantly, if he brought this to Cody, he couldn’t imagine how he could talk around his issues without addressing the nightmares that were at the root of his struggles. And that, he couldn’t do. Those particular nightmares were _never_ spoken of among them. It was literally unthinkable. Even now, as he indirectly considered what shape that conversation might take, his mind filled with the peculiar white noise that sometimes overtook his thoughts when he veered too close to subjects uncomfortable to consider.

He shrugged it off, turning his thoughts to more familiar paths with a practiced ease. The discomfort was never related to anything sensitive or security-related, only topics that were unimportant in the grand scheme of things, so as always, it was easy to dismiss in favor of higher priorities in the moment.

He knew exactly who could help him get the rest his body needed so desperately.

All he needed to do was overcome this irrational, bigoted fear that was crippling him and _ask for it_.

“Look I just—” Rex paused, struggling to find the right words, his mind coming up frustratingly blank. “I just don’t think this is going to work.”

“Do you want it to work?”

General Kenobi’s voice was supportive but calm, dispassionate in a way that Rex clung to desperately. There could be nothing further from judgement in the way the Jedi was looking at and speaking to him now. He had no idea how much he had feared that he would find that thread of censure in this conversation until now, when its absence filled him with something that felt a little like anticipation. 

Perhaps between the two of them, it _was_ possible to find a way through this seemingly endless maze of obstacles that his own mind was determined to throw against him.

“I need _something_ to work.” He let himself finally acknowledge the truth of it to himself even as he spoke the words out loud. He kept his voice low, knowing that he couldn’t bear for any of his brothers to overhear this frank confession, even as he was filled with a terrible sense of relief for finally saying it out loud to _someone_. “I’m...not well.”

“I want to help you, Rex. I hope you can believe that.” The general’s voice was so painfully sincere, it was impossible _not_ to believe him in that moment, looking directly into his eyes and seeing not the slightest trace of pity or malice or deceit. “I will always respect your autonomy and have tried my best not to intrude where my presence is not welcome, but I can sense how much you’re struggling. Perhaps we can come to the root of things and untangle what is troubling you if we work through this together.”

“I just...I can’t _sleep_. I know I need it. It’s...gotten pretty bad.” Rex sighed, setting his elbow on the table and leaning his forehead down to rest in his palm, his fingers rubbing a little back and forth in a fruitless attempt to ease away some of the pounding headache that had settled in with a familiar grip behind his eyes.

“That is a problem to which we have a readily available solution,” the general pointed out, which was fair enough. He continued (and as much as Rex dreaded trying to navigate this conversation, he was still desperately grateful that the other man was willing to try to lead him through it). “Would you be comfortable telling me what is preventing you from availing yourself to it?”

“Look, it’s— it’s nothing personal. I just don’t know that I can accept having someone else in my mind like that. It’s just— it just seems kind of unnatural, intrusive, I guess. I just keep trying to imagine what it would feel like, and I’m not sure I could stand someone messing around in my brain, moving stuff around that I can’t see or feel or do anything to stop if I changed my mind or didn’t like what was happening.

“And, you know us clones.” A part of Rex absently wished he could stop the speeder wreck that his mouth was getting into, just rambling out a stream of consciousness that was revealing far too much about his inner thoughts right now. “We’ve been trained as soldiers our whole lives, trained to obey orders...weak, vulnerable brain-matter like that, probably fold like a house of flimsi-cards the moment someone with psychic abilities even breathed wrong on it.”

Rex was glad that he had lowered his head already, glad that he had the excuse to keep his eyes fixed on the table as his fingers continued to pointlessly try to massage his headache away. He didn’t want to see the expression on the Jedi’s face right now. Would he flinch at the implied accusation? Would there be a quick flash of hurt in those expressive eyes before it was locked away, wrangled under control so that he could continue to reason through the troubles of the struggling man in front of him without letting anything of his own hurt feelings interfere with his desire to reach out and help another?

“Well. There are a few things there that we can unpack if you are willing?” General Kenobi paused for a moment, then went on at Rex’s wordless nod. “Firstly, I understand your concerns; the Force can be a terrible weapon of control against a sentient’s mind when wielded by the unethical. The majority in the galaxy have little defense against such an intrusion, and it is understandable why so many fear and even revile my kind for the intrinsic ability we possess that can overwhelm them at such a basic level.”

Rex could hardly argue the point. The Jedi was only echoing many of the fears he had been struggling with himself so recently. He ruthlessly forced his mind to focus as the general continued speaking.

“However, that being said, I think you are doing yourself and your brothers something of a disservice by dismissing your own mental fortitude so lightly. I read the mission report that was submitted following your engagement with Asajj Ventress in the monastery on Teth. Do you recall it?”

Rex nodded wordlessly, swallowing hard as a cold lump of fear rose up in his throat at the memories. Invisible fingers clenching tight around his throat, cutting off his air, lifting him off his feet and knocking him back hard against the stone wall. That cold, slimy touch, slithering through his thoughts, twisting at his will to try to force him into a betrayal of his general and the young commander, a betrayal of his _oaths_.

He could still see her eyes glaring at him in the dim murky light of that cavern, glinting cruelly in her pale face. Her lips had twisted into a smile as she held him there, suspended and helpless. She’d taken pleasure from her power over him; had enjoyed the pain she’d inflicted and the control she had stolen. That had shaken him more than any of the rest of it.

“The report said that you resisted her compulsion. That rather than doing as you were ordered, your quick thinking in using Anakin’s first name was the key element that alerted them to the ambush that lay in wait. Your strength of will was likely the only reason that entire mission didn’t end in disaster, with an innocent child taken again by the Sith and used as a pawn in their galactic machinations. Do you remember how that intrusion felt? Might you recognize it again if a similar attempt was made to exert control over your mind without your consent?”

“Yes, I— I’m unlikely to forget that feeling. I suppose I would know it if it happened again.”

“And do you recall how your own resistance felt? What you did to detect and then redirect her efforts so that your mind remained your own?”

“I remember.” He wouldn’t be surprised if some of the dawning relief and resurgence of confidence had made its way into his voice. Everything he was being reminded of was true. He hadn’t been helpless in the face of that evil when it had tried to thrust its way inside of him before. He had no idea why it had been so hard to remember his own strength and resilience until someone else pointed it out. “She tried to push her way in, but I felt it and _pushed back_. You’re right. If it came down to it, I think I’d be able to do that again.”

“I think so, too.” Rex felt his cheeks heating a little at the warmth and affection that infused the general’s tone. “In my experience the clone troopers I have been privileged to serve alongside have been nearly universally brilliant and strong-willed, with foundations of firm bedrock that have only become more resilient and durable as the years passed and each one settles more comfortably into their own core, unique identities. And you even brighter than most of the rest. Has Anakin ever told you what you look like to our eyes?”

“Not much to it, I’d imagine,” Rex said, clearing his throat a little awkwardly. “I’m just a simple soldier. Can’t say as I’ve ever even thought about it.”

“Oh, on the contrary. Captain, in the Force, you are a fortress. I can see your grand, high sweeping walls built brick by brick, layers of strength resplendent with _life_ twined throughout it, stretching out wings of protection to all those who shelter in its shadow, crowned in golden light. I have every faith that if it came to it, and some being tried to overwhelm you with mental force alone, your willpower would be more than up to the task of sorting out the situation.”

“That’s, um...that’s quite an assertion, sir,” Rex managed to muster as a pathetically lame response after a few awkward moments of silence while the general waited patiently for him to recover his wits. “I really doubt that could be the case. I’m nothing special.”

“Oh, it’s no exaggeration, I assure you,” the general said, his voice filled with matter-of-fact sincerity. “Nor empty flattery. I have merely described what I see. But that is neither here nor there. What we have discussed are all important considerations to keep in mind as you make your decision, whatever it may be, Captain. But that is only the first point I wished to settle.”

Rex tensed involuntarily as the general paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. The very air around them seemed to still as the powerful intent behind the words that would follow seemed to gather weight.

“Secondly, and I want to be absolutely clear on this point; at the end of the day, while you are on my ship, or otherwise under my direct protection in any way, all of that is moot. Without your explicit and ongoing consent, I will permit absolutely no use of the Force to control or influence your mind in any way, exerted either by myself, or by anyone that it is within my means to prevent.”

Rex breathed out an unsteady exhale at the words, closing his eyes for a moment against the rush of emotion the absolute earnestness in the voice caused to well up inside of him. 

“Captain Rex, please, look at me.” His fingers stilled and his hand clenched into a fist before he could control it, his forehead still resting against it for a moment. When he raised his head and finally met the eyes of the man across from him again, there was no room for doubt. He could practically feel the adamant sincerity there and knew it for the truth. “I swear it. Nothing you have not agreed to. There will be a connection between us forged in that moment if you agree to trying this method; should you change your mind at any time, for any reason whatsoever, I will know, and I will respect that. You have my word that I would stop the moment you desire it.”

Rex kept his eyes locked with the general’s, and had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress the treacherously strong emotions that surged up in his chest. 

He could only nod wordlessly in response.

Yes. He believed him. He couldn’t not in that moment. Not because he suspected for even a moment that his confidence was being unnaturally manipulated. But because the man sitting across from him had earned his trust a hundred times over. Rex had just needed to be reminded of that.

When General Kenobi’s mouth quirked up into a tentative smile aimed in his direction, Rex couldn’t help the way his own lips twitched up in return. 

Oh. Right.

This was what _hope_ felt like.

“There is perhaps something more concrete we can do to allay some of your concerns where the sanctity of your own mind is concerned in the more immediate term. Have you had a chance to sign-up for any of the associated workshops that are scheduled during transit?”

“Workshops?” Rex asked, his voice steadier than it had any right to be given the dizzying blend of emotional upheaval and utter weariness that was sinking its claws deeper into his mind with every passing second. He had no idea what the relevance was, but the utter routineness of the topic threw him off-balance for just a moment, before he latched onto it with an eagerness to return to the bland and familiar. “Cody mentioned something about that when we embarked, but I haven’t had a chance to follow-up yet.”

“Oh dear, your orientation truly was lacking, wasn’t it? I do apologize for the oversight. Here, I think I have a copy…” Rex watched, bemused, as the general leaned back and rifled through one of the leather pouches suspended from his wide belt, eventually pulling out and toggling on a spare data-pad. After tapping out a few commands into the screen, he held out the device expectantly.

Rex took it after a small hesitation, staring down at the small lines of text on the screen that were stubbornly trying to blur and dance away from the comprehension his weary mind was trying to reach. He set it down on the table after a few seconds, laying his hands down flat on the table on either side of it, looking up with one eyebrow raised in question, hoping that his lack of capability had passed without notice.

“Some of the workshops scheduled for this transit are undoubtedly already full,” General Kenobi said, waving his hand expansively as he spoke, picking up the datapad himself and scrolling through its contents thoughtfully. “The lightsaber combat training class is always extremely popular with the men, and even adding more sessions this time, all of the rosters filled up within an hour of their announcement. The meditation classes are also always quite well-attended, along with a few others, but I would be more than happy to ensure a space is made for you in the next available mind-shield and resilience class if you are interested in attending. Let’s see, the next one is scheduled for... two days from now.”

Rex knew it was his turn to talk as the general looked back up at him, his face open and expectant. Rex’s eyes felt like they were filled with sand, his mouth like it was lined with cotton. 

“I...appreciate the thought, General,” he said, forcing the words out one at a time as if they were rusty gears grinding out of synch with the rest of his thoughts, “I’m just not sure if it would...if that— that I’d be able to...get anything worthwhile out of...a thing. Like that. I mean, right now. With me like this.”

He knew the words made almost no sense even as he was speaking them. He felt almost drunk, but with none of the exuberant highs that sometimes accompanied alcohol and good company. His thoughts were more sluggish than ever now, and to his complete and utter mortification, he suddenly felt on the verge of tears. 

He clenched his eyes shut tight, grinding his teeth together. He would _not_ break down into a sobbing mess in front of High General Kenobi with all of his brothers currently dining in the wardroom as witnesses to his shame. 

He would _not_.

Rex startled a bit when he felt calloused fingers come to rest gently on top of one of his hands. It felt...strange, and for a moment, he thought about jerking his hands away. But it also felt so nice. The fingers were warm against his skin; he’d been so cold recently, his body rebelling against his comfort in every possible way. Instead of obeying his initial instinct and pulling away, he screwed up his courage and turned his own hand over, letting his palm meet the other. As soon as the general’s fingers accepted the invitation, curling down around his own, he grasped the others’ hand tightly, his desperation bleeding through every barrier he had tried to throw up to hide it.

“Captain,” the general’s voice was soft, as non-threatening as he could make it. “I would never want to push you, especially while you are in a fragile state, but I want to help, and I can _feel_ how much in need of true rest you are. Do you want to try—?”

“Yes,” Rex gasped out, the confession spilling from his lips like water before the question could even finish being asked. “Yes, please, I want what you do for the others, I want the peace of it, the rest.”

“Shh, it’s fine, we’ll get this all sorted out,” General Kenobi said, his voice full of assurance, his hand gripping Rex’s back with as much reassuring strength as he was holding on with himself. “You’ll feel much more yourself after a good night’s rest, and we’ll make sure you get it.”

“Can’t now though,” Rex protested, his mind spinning in circles as he tried and failed to calculate how many hours remained of his duty shift, the time stretching interminably ahead of him. “Still on duty. Later though, if you could—”

“Oh, I think not,” General Kenobi interrupted him with a light voice and gentle smile, not a hint of give in his tone. “We are currently onboard my flagship, and couldn’t possibly be safer while making our transit through hyperspace. I am making the executive decision to take you off the duty roster as of _now_ , Captain. And I’ll hear no arguments against it.”

The last words were said with an air of finality that pulled the wind out of the argument that Rex had been opening his mouth to make before he could even begin it. He had to stop himself from making a noise of protest when the general pulled his hand away to hold his wrist close to his mouth.

“Commander Cody,” he said, the voice activation on the device kicking in and connecting his call immediately.

“Yes, General.” Rex relaxed a notch further hearing the familiar, crisp tones echo through the comm. Cody was there. Nothing could be so broken that it couldn’t be fixed as long as his brother was there.

“Cody, I’m afraid I’ll be monopolizing Captain Rex’s time for the rest of his duty shift today. Will you please make the necessary arrangements for his XO to cover down on any requirements until he is available again tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, sir. Routine battle rhythm today for the staff and watchbills are well-established, shouldn’t be any issues.” Rex could swear he detected a hint of smug satisfaction in Cody’s voice as he replied. He supposed he wouldn’t be surprised if Cody was able to piece together exactly what was happening just by implication. His brother always had somewhat of a knack for seeing when someone around him was nearing a breaking point and knowing exactly what intervention needed to be applied to get them through it.

“Thank you, Cody,” General Kenobi replied. “I’ll see you in the war room for the planning meeting in a few hours.”

“Sounds good, sir. Cody, out.”

Rex blinked up stupidly as General Kenobi stood, picking up their trays and depositing them both into the ready slots of a nearby cleaning droid that was hovering conveniently in reach.

“Shall we?” 

Nodding, Rex stood himself, moving slowly to try to disguise how unsteady he was at first, blood rushing through him in unsteady thrumming pulses as he changed his elevation. The general waited patiently at his side without comment until Rex felt stable enough to proceed. They walked together through the passageways of the ship, Rex steady enough on his feet to make it under his own power, but grateful for the wordless support that the general offered, walking closely enough by his side that their arms brushed with every step, giving Rex a solid cornerstone to guide against when the disorientation tried to creep up on him during the walk.

He lost some time, blinking in and out of coherency, trusting in that constant, steady pressure at his side to guide him right. He was surprised when he blinked back into awareness and found himself facing his own assigned rack, no clear memory of how he had navigated his way all the way there.

The room was empty, all of the other occupants either currently on duty or busy socializing and running personal errands. Rex fumbled his armor off with slow, numb fingers, the general politely turning his back as Rex stowed each piece carefully into its place in his locker, one by one. When he was down to his blacks, he reached out and climbed up the ladder steps inset into the side of the racks, sliding his body into place smoothly, the motion somehow managing to be seamless in its familiarity.

When he turned his head to the side, General Kenobi was there, standing next to his rack with that familiar small, soft smile on his face. He reached one hand out, and Rex took him up on the wordless offer with relief, gripping it hard and finding reassurance in its steady hold. 

“Are you ready?”

“Wait,” Rex said, hesitating suddenly, filled with a sudden, sweeping sense of terror that he couldn’t name. “Wait, just...the dreams, what if—”

“No dreams,” General Kenobi said, his voice containing a thread of durasteel that Rex knew he could have faith in. “Only peace for you tonight. I promise.”

Oh, the sense of relief that filled him then could have drowned a planet. The general would take care of the dreams, he believed it with every atom of his being.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

He could rest.

He let his weary eyes fall closed as the general brought up his other hand to rest it gently against Rex’s forehead, fingers barely brushing against the bristled edge of his hairline as they curled there warmly.

He sighed, and let steady hands guide him down down into a feather-soft cushion of peace, his mind falling into quiet stillness as everything around him faded away.

He slept.


End file.
